by Marie James
It isn’t until she faces me again, her sultry, but dilated, green eyes focusing on me, that I fully understand what’s going on. She urges me to step closer, holding both hands out, but my eyes search the room instead.
The rolled-up bill and powder residue on her kitchen counter are all I need to see to comprehend why she’s so playful, and why she’s reaching for me now when she never has before.
A week ago she wanted me gone, wanted nothing to do with me, only saw me as caregiver, and nothing more. She wasn’t thankful or appreciative of the amount of time I spent with her, of the times I saved her from herself, but I can’t pin all my anger on her.
I gave her too much space, too much time to think, and all that shit stops now.
I go to her, watching her mouth fall open on a breathless sigh as I press my body against hers. Her fingers find my hair when I grip her naked hips with punishing hands.
“Hi,” she whispers against my lips.
Alcohol taints her breath, the relaxing agents of whiskey fighting with the coke she has snorted.
“I missed you.”
Her words cut me to my soul. I grip her harder because I know those words would never leave her lips if she weren’t high as a fucking kite. The tiny whimper escaping her throat lands in my balls, drawing them up tight to my body as my cock thickens and pounds against the zipper of my jeans.
“Kaci,” I pant against her lips, needing her and unable to do what really needs to be done.
Never drunk and never high. It’s what I told myself every time I wanted to take her. She has to be aware, has to make that cognizant choice herself. I won’t be like the assholes she seeks out for punishment at the parties. I won’t take advantage. I won’t even touch her delicate skin without her sober and begging for it.
All of it lies.
My mind wars with my body as her hips continue to sway to the music. The brush of her body against mine slowly melts my resolve.
This wasn’t my intent. Wanting to hold her like this, needing to push my dick against her belly were the reasons I stayed away. I’d needed to find control, something I lost the second I stepped inside this room.
She arches against my chest when my tongue snakes out and brushes her lip.
She whimpers, relaxing into my hold for only a second before her body stiffens and her palms, no longer tugging at the hair at my nape, run down and push against my chest.
“No.” A single word without fire behind it at all.
Standing in her own apartment, she’s pulling the same shit she did at the bar, the exact same act I don’t doubt she’s pulled each and every damn time she’s been at one of those parties searching for someone to hurt her.
When I pull her harder against my chest, I wonder how long the other guys took to lose their cool. I want to be better, to last longer, but she’s testing my limits, and the glint in her eyes means she knows it.
“Stop,” she pants, but it turns to a moan when I dig my fingers into the flesh of her ass again.
I’m at an advantage, fully clothed while she’s in nothing but a thin tank top and a scrap of lace pretending to be panties.
“Kaci,” I say against her lips once more, but she doesn’t give in. She doesn’t open her mouth to grant the entrance I’m begging for. Instead her fingernails dig into my chest. My shirt barely serves as protection from her attack, but I’m not hindered.
“I’m not playing this game with you, gorgeous.” I fist her hair, tugging until the long column of her neck is exposed and she’s whimpering.
“Please don’t,” she rasps when my tongue, obviously not good enough for her mouth, traces the fluttering pulse point at the base of her throat.
Her back bows, the movement causing her body to tease and taunt me further as her lush tits press against me. She must realize the contact because she swivels her hips against me as much as the curvature of her body will allow.
The room has fallen silent as the songs ends. The only seductive sounds around us now are the harsh pants from our mouths and her keening cry when I sink my teeth into her shoulder. It’s not enough to hurt her or draw blood, but that doesn’t stop the goosebumps from radiating down her arms.
Her mouth says stop one more time, but her hips never stop moving against mine.
“Enough,” I spit, pulling her back up to standing and releasing her.
“TJ?”
I hate the waver in her voice and the doe eyes she’s blinking up at me.
“Is this a game to you?” My words are harsh and accusatory.
“I wanted you to stop.”
Her eyes never leave my lips, and fuck if they don’t tingle at the attention.
“Stop?” I huff, my hands raking over the top of my head. “Okay.”
I turn to leave, but her hand on my arm stops me. With my jacket still on, I can’t feel the warmth of her embrace, and I fucking hate it.
“Dance with me.”
I turn, finding her arms open, and I’m every part the damn fool my father told me I was because I walk right back into her fucking arms.
I kill.
I maim.
I torture.
Yet, this pixie of a girl is controlling me. I only allow it for now because cold has replaced the warmth on my chest from where she was, and I hate the chill it forces over my skin even though I’m fully clothed.
“There isn’t any music.”
“We don’t need music,” she whispers. “Move with me.”
I should feel like an idiot, standing in this girl’s apartment, my hips swaying and moving to a song only she can hear in her head, but I don’t let it slow me down. My fingers find her ass again, and I pull her against me with a grunt when her warm lips tease my neck. I bite my lips to stop the moan that needs to escape. I refuse to give her the satisfaction.
I slide a leg between her thighs, rolling her body so she feels the friction against her clit. With nimble fingers, I pull the strap of her tank away and nip at her shoulder.
“Kaci,” I pant against her warm skin.
Just like last time, she tenses a single second before she pushes against my chest. I don’t relent this time. If games are what she wants, I’m willing to play this time.
I dig my teeth into her shoulder hard enough to bruise, deep enough to leave my mark on her body long after I’m gone.
“Don’t,” she whimpers while her fingers dig harder into my clothes.
“That’s enough, gorgeous.” I pull my body from hers, but only far enough to reach between us and use my free hand to rip open my belt.
“Wh-what are you d-doing?”
She’s realizing the tables have turned. She’s not the one in charge, and sorry for her if she even believed she was for a second.
“Down,” I command adding pressure to her shoulders while my hand still grips her hair. My cock is out a second later. “We’re playing your game.”
Her knees hit her hardwood floor with enough force that a wince creases the corners of her eyes, but this is what she does isn’t it? I can’t feel sorry for her, can’t back away now. This is, after all, exactly what she expects of me. What she expects of every man she comes in contact with.
Her eyes widen further when I pull my knife from my belt.
“Is this what you need?”
She doesn’t answer, but her gaze never leaves my blade until it’s out of her line of vision and running down her neck. Her breaths increase in speed, the hot air teases the head of my cock like a caress.
“Suck,” I command, shifting my hips a couple inches closer until my dick is resting on her perfect fucking bottom lip.
Her mouth clamps shut, and her hands push against my thighs, but I’m not backing away now. I reason that doing this after a couple of lines of blow and some alcohol isn’t the same thing as lacing her drink and stripping her naked while she’s unconscious. She may not be in her right mind, but neither am I.
“Suck,” I repeat, drawing in my own harsh breath when her lips turn up in a siniste
r smile. The devious look on her face is enough to make me pause, but only briefly. “Bite me and I’ll slit your fucking throat.”
I twist the tip of my knife into the flesh near her collarbone, not enough to draw blood, but enough for her to heed my warning.
“I’m waiting.” I move my hips, my cock pulsing hard when my pre-cum coats her lips.
I’ve got her by the hair, threatening her with my knife, and yet as she looks up at me, wide green eyes shining, and opens her mouth as if this entire situation was of her own making and I’m giving her exactly what she wants. We both know she’s the one in complete power. She dominates me from her fucking knees with one simple suck.
I jolt, hips pulling me from her mouth with the power of her initial contact. Her cheeks blaze, tongue sneaking out to lick my taste from her lips.
“You’re not going to top me from down there, beautiful.”
My knife clatters to the floor, forgotten in an instant as both of my hands reach for her. I twist my fingers into her hair at her temples and pull her forward. Her gasp of surprise is silenced with my cock as I shove it in hard and deep. The muscles in her throat squeeze my head, and it takes all of my power not unleash on her. I have no rhythm, no steady pace. It’s one more thing she’s stolen from me. Years of experience and hundreds of mouths previously wrapped around my cock no longer matter. I’m brand new, once again that thirteen-year-old boy fucking a club whore for the first time, only that chick no longer exists either.
It’s as if, until this very moment, my dick has never had human contact before. I’m starved for her, for the intensity of her actions and the way she makes my heart race with the simplest of touches.
The sound of her gagging doesn’t slow me down. It only serves as the new song we’re dancing to, my breaths rushing out to form the chorus of our erotic song.
Something changes. I can feel the electrical current in the room shift at the same time her fingers stop digging into the front of my thighs and she shifts them to clasp my legs from the back. She’s no longer pushing me away. Now, she’s clinging to me, pulling me in deeper.
Avoiding the sight of her swallowing me whole is the only thing keeping me from exploding down her throat, so I keep my eyes tilted to the ceiling until the burn in my nuts is so bad with the need for release that it can no longer be ignored.
“Jesus fuck,” I grunt when I give in and lower my head to observe her servicing me.
Head tilted back, throat taking everything I have to offer, she’s the most immaculate thing I’ve ever seen. Unpainted lips wide and encircling my cock, I watch as tears flow freely from the corners of her eyes as I stab into her over and over. Her chin is drenched with spit, and all of that is amazing, but it’s the hollows of her cheeks as she legitimately participates in my brutality that sends me over the edge. For a half of a second, I’m indecisive, unable to choose between pulling out and marking her face with my cum, or blowing down her throat.
The warmth of her mouth and the hand sneaking up my thigh to grip my sack make the decision for me. I punch deep and unload, my cock jerking erratically against her tongue. I blow so fucking deep in her throat she doesn’t even have to swallow when my oversensitive cock falls from her lips.
Chapter 19
Kaci
TJ is smiling down at me, and the softness on his face and in his bright blue eyes is almost enough to make me forget about the pain in my knees and the urge to grin back at him, but then his hand reaches down and softly cups my cheek.
“Don’t,” he warns when I jerk my head away so fast I end up sprawled on my ass.
Shame washes over me. I wasn’t supposed to enjoy his pleasure. I wasn’t supposed to soak my panties the second he shoved me to my knees and commanded me to open my mouth. I had no right to be on the verge of coming when he threatened me with that fucking knife. Remembering the weapon, my eyes dart to my left, spotting the shining blade lying by my hip.
“Nope,” he hisses and pulls me up before I can wrap my fingers around the hilt. “What were you planning to do with that, pretty girl?”
Pretty girl
Gorgeous.
Beautiful.
All the fucking pet names are enough to make me go mad.
“Baby,” he whispers, his fingers cupping my jaw exactly the same way they did when I was still on my knees and reeling from his assault.
Last fucking straw.
“Don’t.” With all the force I can muster, I push against his chest. “Leave me alone.”
“Not a chance in hell.”
He pulls me against his chest, holding me tighter when I try to fight him. His punishing grip around my back is stronger than he’s ever held me before, and only then do I know that all the other times, I could’ve gotten away from him. Had I actually wanted to leave his arms, he would’ve let me go. The story is a little different now as he holds me tight enough it’s becoming difficult to get an adequate lungful of air.
“Let me go,” I beg, but he only holds me tighter.
I know exactly what this is. Aftercare. He took advantage of me, and some hidden soft spot inside of him is urging him to make sure I’m okay. Deo did the exact same thing. He’d brutalize me, then try to hold me. It only served to ease his guilt. The comforting touches, his fingers rhythmically sifting through my hair were to calm his demons, not make me feel at ease. I fell for it the first time, but then the next night he returned and hurt me even more.
I squeeze my eyes closed, forcing myself to try to calm down, but the embrace is too much. It’s too reminiscent of the past. Not once, not one of the assholes from the party got me as close to that time in my life as I am right now. I’m trembling, part in fear and part in need for him. It’s the latter that renews my strength.
“Get off me!” I roar, so close to his ear, he has no other choice but to loosen his hold.
I’m barreling toward my bathroom, assuring myself that if I can only make it inside and lock him out, I can wait to freak out until he leaves.
“Don’t think so.” He’s grabbing me again, pulling my back against his chest, and I hate the feel of his hot breath on my skin. “I’m not done with you yet.”
I whimper at his threat but stop struggling.
“Please,” I plead.
I repeat the word over and over. At first, I’m begging for him to release me, to let me deal with what happened between us in my own way, but the meaning of the word changes when his rough hand tugs up my shirt and he grips my breast punishingly.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Yes you do,” I argue.
The slap to my breast weakens my knees, but he holds me steady. Fire blooms on my skin, radiating from the sting of his hit. The red flesh tingles before I feel my pulse settle at the injury.
“You liked that.”
“I-I didn’t,” I stammer.
A biting slap hits my other breast, and I moan like a whore. His lips turn up against my neck in a wicked smile.
Arousal isn’t allowed. It’s punished and treated like a sin. Slaves aren’t granted pleasure and showing it only results in harsher treatment.
“Get out of your fucking head, Kaci.” Two successive hits, one to each breast, bring me back to the present. “Where are you?”
Two more hits.
I want to answer him, but the burn from his slaps are just too decadent.
One hand holds my hip with brutal force while his other reaches up and pinches the stinging nipple on my right breast.
“Where. Are. You?” He pinches and releases with each word.
“H-here,” I manage. “I’m here.”
His hand leaves my tits too soon, but his probing fingers begin to trace lower. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from mewling as he sweeps under my panties.
“God, you’re fucking perfect,” he praises as he dips a finger between my folds, no doubt finding me drenched.
Once again, I try to pull away because I’m unable to keep my arousal a secret.
“Don’t fucking move,” he growls.
My panties are ripped from my body. The abrasion left behind on my hip will serve as a memento from tonight. I grow wetter with the mere thought of looking at it tomorrow in the mirror.
“Ah,” he moans before sinking his teeth hard into my earlobe. “Fucking your mouth turned you on.”
It isn’t a question, so I don’t bother to lie. He’s pushing two thick fingers into my core, so there isn’t even a point in lying to him right now. My body tells him everything he needs to know.
“I’ve waited so fucking long to touch you like this.”
I can’t handle the reverence in his voice, or the fact that his hands have transitioned from harsh grabs and slaps to reverent caresses.
“Let me go,” I spit.
“Too sweet for you?” The taunting lilt of his voice contradicts the continued softness in his touch between my thighs. “Just thought I’d be nice and return the favor. Give a thank you for the epic suck off, but I don’t think nice is what you need. Is it?”
I yelp in surprise when suddenly I’m tossed onto my bed. I bounce twice, and when I land, TJ is already between my thighs. His jeans are still around his thighs and the heat of his once again thick cock arrows to my pussy like it’s one step ahead of the game.
Of their own accord, my hips swivel, and a shameful cry rushes past my lips at my inability to control my own body.
“No.” Cruel fingers grip my jaw until TJ forces me to look him in the eye. “Don’t close your eyes. Don’t fucking think. And don’t you fucking dare picture anyone but me. Watch.”
Obeying his command, my eyes follow him as he slides down my body. Every ripple of his abs bumps over my clit as he makes his way down my body.
“Don’t be nice to me,” I beg.
He nods, one soft dip of his chin, and suddenly we’re on the same page.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
I thought we were in tune with each other, but then the single light in the middle of my ceiling glints off the blade of his knife. I don’t even know when he picked the thing up from the ground, or maybe he keeps more than one on him at all times.